


Work For It

by shuuvee



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Clubbing, Crack, Doyoung's a caring boyfriend, Explicit Language, Flirting, Fluff, Gay Bar, Go-Go Boy Ten, Go-Go Boy Yuta, Johnny's lowkey a stoner, Kissing, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Open Relationships, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Romance, Sex Work, Slice of Life, Strip Tease, Taeyong is a mess, Ten's smol and angry and flirty and tender, Voyeurism, Yuta's wild, bartender!doyoung, but actually v helpful, side!tenyong, side!yutae - Freeform, side!yuten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 08:18:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14807679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuuvee/pseuds/shuuvee
Summary: Taeyong’s not used to interviewing for normal jobs because of his current one, and Doyoung isn’t much help beyond being a gigantic flirt. Yuta and Ten? They’re even worse.





	Work For It

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This fic is based off of the canon from [Sugar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621325), an amazing Luwoo fic that you should read :))) You don't have to read that fic to understand this one, but the characters fit together well :) Happy reading!! <3

  


* * *

  
“I think I should get a real job.”

Doyoung shot him a Look while clearing the empty glasses from the bar. Taeyong wasn’t the best at reading people, but he knew that Doyoung’s expression was somewhere between amused and confused. _Probably_.

He wanted to pretend it was the crappy ambient lighting and not his complete inability to read people ever. 

“What?” Taeyong asked, pouting a little. Doyoung was always very headstrong, but this was something where Taeyong wasn’t just going to change his mind to please his boyfriend. He had been thinking about this for a while, actually -- he was committed to finding a real job. A real job like Doyoung’s, like being a bartender at a trendy nightclub. Maybe a little more boring, maybe surrounded by fewer people. He was a little tired of people, tired of the pounding music, tired of liquor pouring out of every sink.

Doyoung flirtily rolled his eyes, swooping down the bar toward him. “ _Nothing_ , babe. I just think you’re happy here.”

“I am, but I don’t have to work while I’m here.”

“Won’t you miss Ten and Yuta?” Doyoung immediately quipped back, leaning forward on the bar and staring up into Taeyong’s eyes. He loved doing that -- forcing Taeyong to acknowledge his big round eyes and using them to his advantage. That look is why they started living together. “Won’t you miss _me_?”

“It’s not like I’d never come here again, Doyoungie,” Taeyong softly countered, leaning forward a bit himself. He really had been thinking about this for a while, and he had responses ready for everything Doyoung could and would say. “I could hang out at the bar with you!” he suggested.

Doyoung giggled. “And have you go through all my mixers because you can’t handle real drinks?”

Taeyong pouted again. “I can hold my liquor,” he complained.

His boyfriend smiled consolingly, reaching up and wiping off some of the gold glitter from his cheekbone. “Sure, babe. And I can handle that pedestal as well as you do.”

This time Taeyong cracked a smile. The thought of Doyoung on his pedestal was a little kinky -- enough to rev his libido back up after a long night of exhausting it -- but he’d probably have no idea what to do. Doyoung was all limbs, too caring and self-conscious to be much good at what Taeyong did. He was much better at bartending. Besides, if Doyoung ever quit bartending, he would just _have_ to find another job where he could roll his sleeves up so Taeyong could gawk at his arms flexing all the time. Maybe a tattoo artist?

Doyoung hopped away, finding more half-finished glasses to whisk into the dirty dishes tub. “Yuta and Ten really would miss you out there. You’re half the reason people like Climax so much.”

Taeyong scoffed, even if Doyoung’s compliments hit him right in the praise kink. “Have you _seen_ those two? Yuta was letting people do body shots off his abs and Ten was eye-fucking every living boy within a twenty-meter radius.”

Doyoung shook his head, reaching under the bar to grab Taeyong’s white button-up that he had handed off before his shift. His boyfriend threw it across the bar at him, and Taeyong caught it in mid-air. “Besides, what type of _real_ job would you get after being a go-go boy for three years?”

Taeyong paused, holding the balled-up shirt in his hands. He hadn’t really thought about that.

Climax -- the aforementioned trendy nightclub -- had basically been his whole life for three years. Yuta and Ten were his friends, Doyoung was his fucking boyfriend, and he worked here four nights a week! The thought of having a life outside of Climax, the thought of being away from the pounding music, the restless bodies, the lust, the tension, the booze and the boys… well, he actually hadn’t thought about that all that much.

“Being a go-go boy _is_ a real job, by the way,” the black-haired boy added, grabbing wrappers and napkins to throw them into the trash. Doyoung complimented him well: black hair versus blonde hair, casually organized versus chaotically impulsive, top versus bottom. They fit.

He shook his head, unfurling his button-up and slinging it around his chest. He knew he’d get some of the gold glitter splashed up his chest on the inside of his shirt, but Doyoung would just wash it out later for him when they got home. “I don’t know, but I want a job that doesn’t involve so much stripping and drinking and handsyness.”

Doyoung shot him another look. This time was definitely amused. Probably.

“I’m not that much of a hoe!” Taeyong protested.

“And I want you to be the only person touching me, Doyoungie,” he softly added, finishing buttoning up his shirt. Well, if “finishing” meant leaving the top three buttons undone, that is.

His black-haired boyfriend stopped in his tracks. “Awwww, that’s sweet of you, babe,” Doyoung started, gliding back over to Taeyong. “I kinda like it when other people touch you, though.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t like it so much anymore. And if you’re really that desperate to see someone get all touchy-feely with me, I’m sure Yuta will do it free-of-charge.”

“Yuta will suck your dick free-of-charge, babe.”

“See!”

Doyoung shook his head. “Fine. Well, if you want to get a different job, I definitely won’t stop you.”

Taeyong smiled, leaning over the counter and planting a chaste kiss on Doyoung’s lips, which tasted like a mixture of alcohol and cranberry juice. In reality, it was probably a far fancier drink, but Taeyong couldn’t try those drinks. They were off-limits for a lightweight like him, especially when your boyfriend is the bartender.

“ _But_ ,” Doyoung added before kissing him back, “If you want to get a real job, you probably need to learn how to line up the buttons on your shirt.”

Doyoung motioned down toward Taeyong’s white button-up with his eyes and winked. Taeyong looked down too and found that his entire button-up was misaligned and blushed a little.  


* * *

  
“Another day…” Taeyong muttered, staring off into space. He spun his glass of water with his fingers while the other two go-go boys watched him, relaxing in the booth before their shift.

It had been a week since he had the Talk with Doyoung about finding a “real” job. Or another job. Whatever. It was something he was rather committed to, and he started applying for jobs around their apartment the next day. Doyoung, as usual, was sarcastically helpful -- or helpfully sarcastic? Either way, Doyoung loved to press his buttons, to rile him up with little taunts here and there only to send them away with sweet-nothings and cuddles. 

Searching for jobs was _hard_ , though -- a different kind of hard from what he was used to at Climax, with all the shirtless boys and liquor and thumping music. He was starting to get tired of being the center of attention at Climax, but he was also getting tired of job-searching. Finding a new job was like a full-time job in of itself, and it didn’t help that his sleep schedule was beyond fucked because of his late-night shifts at Climax. It turned out the coffee shops liked to interview at 10 am, which was like six hours after he got home from Climax with Doyoung and five hours after he’d finished sucking Doyoung off. He needed his beauty sleep, damnit. And his post-sex cuddling.

Preferably in Doyoung’s strong arms.

Ten coughed politely, bringing Taeyong’s attention back to Climax and the two go-go boys seated across from him. Apparently they had been waiting for more after his cryptic comment.

Yuta, who was seated opposite of him, moved his hand to hold Taeyong’s. “Taeyong, _baby_ \--”

“--I’m not your baby,” Taeyong interrupted, rolling his eyes. He shook his hand free of Yuta’s, earning a pout from the other boy. Ten was sitting next to Yuta and started giggling, leaning a bit into Yuta’s side before returning to his fruity cocktail. Yuta, meanwhile, was nursing a healthy graveyard of shot glasses, yet still didn’t seem any worse from it.

“Yeah, Yuta,” Ten agreed, taking a sip of his mixed drink, “Taeyongie’s happily married now.”

“I’m not--”

“-- _Ohhhh_ , you’re right, Ten,” Yuta lilted, completely ignoring Taeyong’s protests. “I guess that means that Taeyongie’s not doing body shots anymore.”

Taeyong scoffed. “I’m not ripped enough to do body shots.”

“With your hips and tongue you don’t have to be,” Ten dryly commented, hovering over his drink and taking another sip. Yuta casually leaned closer to the table, and Taeyong soon found out why: he felt a hand creep under the narrow table and grope his shirt-covered chest, immediately yelping and slapping Yuta’s hand away again.

Yuta lustfully smirked. “You’re ripped enough for me, _baby_.”

Taeyong usually didn’t mind Yuta’s casual groping, but there was something about today that put him extra on-edge. Actually, it wasn’t just today -- he had been like this for the past few days, carefully avoiding Yuta and his ever-present desire to feel Taeyong up and try to lustfully eye-fuck his way into Taeyong’s pants. It didn’t help that Yuta was just wearing an unzipped hoodie. No undershirt or anything. Yuta’s abs were _not_ left to the imagination. Nor was the purple glitter. Not that the silver glitter and heavy eyeliner that Ten was sporting was any less painfully sexy.

It wasn’t entirely unusual for the three of them to be in various states of undress at Climax, whether they were on-the-clock or not. He was so used to seeing Ten and Yuta shirtless that he was surprised it could even bother him anymore. They were all comfortable with their bodies… they had to be for this type of job. But there was something about going around and interviewing for other jobs that made him realize that being a go-go boy was so unlike any other job. 

Like, a barista’s uniform was an apron. His uniform was reflective gold hotpants and gold glitter streaked up his chest.

A barista might wear a choker if they wanted to be a little flirty one day. One time Taeyong wore a choker with cat bells pinned on a choker and set an establishment record for most tips in one night.

Yuta went in for another feel, earning a yelp from him. “Yup, definitely ripped.”

“What’s wrong, Taeyongie?” Ten asked, kicking Yuta’s shin under the table ‘on accident.’ Hint: it was never on accident.

“You haven’t been yourself, and it makes me sad,” the shorter boy carefully added.

“You haven’t been yourself, and it makes me _needy_ ,” Yuta continued, adding his own spin on Ten’s genuine and friendly concern. Ten didn’t seem to appreciate it as much, shooting Yuta an annoyed glare; Yuta, meanwhile, just pinched Ten’s cheek, smudging some of the silver glitter.

“It’s nothing, really,” Taeyong lied. He felt like he had to -- he didn’t want Yuta or Ten knowing that he was considering leaving until he actually had a new job. Taeyong didn’t want them to worry… or worse yet, for Yuta to get even more handsy.

On second thought, where else could it go but actually fucking in the middle of the club? Doyoung did have a voyeurism kink…

“Spill it,” Ten demanded, using the straw in his drink to swirl the cocktail playfully.

“Yeah, you _have_ to tell us, baby,” Yuta agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “We’ve both seen your dick.”

“Felt it too,” the shorter boy wryly added. Yuta just smirked.

Taeyong leaned in, feeling his body heat rush two places: his face and his dick. “Look, I told you never to speak of that threesome to anybody.”

Ten scoffed. “I’ll have you know that fucking me is an _honor_ ,” he lisped. “Maybe it’s not an honor to fuck Yuta considering he fucks every boy with a pulse.”

Yuta didn’t even pretend to offer an offended face, assenting with the general takeaway that he was in fact a hoe. It was really just a fact of life, to be honest.

“If Doyoungie ever finds out that we had a threesome, he’ll demand that we do it again,” Taeyong huffed. “In front of him.”

Yuta frowned. “Well, that’s no good.”

“Right?” Taeyong hurriedly agreed.

“He would have to join,” the taller boy replied, crossing his arms.

Oh god no.

Ten chuckled, presumably watching Taeyong’s flustered reaction manifest in real-time. “He’d probably cream himself too fast while watching anyways.”

“Who’d cream what now?” a familiar soft-sounding voice interrupted. Taeyong’s head immediately jerked up finding his boyfriend standing at the head of the table with a slightly puzzled expression, surveying the three go-go boys for a tell, for a reaction. Taeyong also watched the others, praying that neither of them gave away their previous topic. Luckily, Ten and Yuta seemed to be playing it cool.

“Ten likes cream in his coffee,” Yuta answered, looking at his nails disinterestedly. “Almost as much as he likes creaming himself when it comes to me.”

“ _Keep dreaming_ ,” Ten countered, rolling his eyes. 

“Every night, baby.”

Taeyong’s eyes darted back to Ten, who crossed his arms, looking small and fuming. Yuta, however, wasn’t done: he glanced over at Ten and licked his lips, earning a raised eyebrow from the shorter go-go boy. Taeyong used to think that hate-fucking wasn’t a real thing -- then he met Yuta and Ten. Not that they actually hated each other; by the end of the night, Ten would probably be curled up in Yuta’s lap, mewling for attention. Y’know, before Johnny would whisk him away for whatever they’d do later that night.

He was so focused on the other two boys that he nearly forgot about his boyfriend, who had joined them earlier. Doyoung hadn’t said anything, probably in stunned silence that _this_ was what they talked about before Climax opened.

Honestly, what did Doyoung think they talked about? Puppies?

“Doyoung, could you _please_ tell us what’s wrong with your boyfriend?” Yuta finally asked, breaking his flirty gaze directed at Ten so that he could look innocently at Doyoung. It was amazing -- like Yuta had an at-will flirt switch all the time.

Oh, and Doyoung better not say anything, they had talked about this and --

“He didn’t tell you?” Doyoung asked, sliding into the booth where Taeyong was sitting. Or, more accurately, sliding onto Taeyong’s lap. It was probably to make him less upset about how Doyoung was about to spill the beans about his job search. “Taeyongie’s looking for a new job, and he had his first interview today.”

Ten, who was sipping his drink, promptly started choking, dramatically gagging while Yuta started laughing at him. “He does that when his mouth is around my cock, too,” Yuta bragged, smirking again while motioning at Ten.

“ _Fuck off, bitch_ ,” Ten choked out between gags. Finally composing himself, he turned his attention back to Taeyong. “You’re quitting? And leaving me with this asshole?”

“You love my assho--” Yuta started, before Doyoung cut him off.

“-- You haven’t told them yet, babe?”

“ _No_ ,” Taeyong flatly replied, knowing that Doyoung was playing coy. “Like I told you earlier, I didn’t want them to know unless I actually found something.”

“So the interview didn’t go well?” Yuta asked, switching back to innocent.

Doyoung chuckled. “He called me in a huff afterwards. The interview was at a florist’s shop, so naturally they asked if he had ever taken care of a plant before.”

“Aren’t all the flowers already pre-cut at a flower shop!?” Taeyong jumped in, trying to save himself.

“So,” Doyoung continued, ignoring his boyfriend, “he told them about the time he bought a succulent plant and then casually mentioned that it died less than a week after he bought it.”

“Oh my god,” Ten mouthed, glancing over at Taeyong. “How?”

“That’s what the interviewer asked too!” Doyoung shouted, excitedly squirming in his lap. “Taeyongie thought the succulent needed lots of water so that it could store all its water in its stem or whatever. He decided to flood the poor thing.”

Ten shifted his weight, leaning a little toward Yuta. “Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me that Taeyong kills every plant he touches. He just seems like that type of person. Y’know, the clumsiness and all.”

“Unless it comes to thrusting!” Yuta unhelpfully added.

Ten nodded. “Exactly. He’s a pro at that.”

Taeyong blushed a little. Sometimes he swore that Yuta and Ten knew he had that praise kink.

“It got worse, guys,” Doyoung continued, bringing the other go-go boys’ attention back to him. “So they wanted him to demonstrate that he could move those big bags of potting soil around --”

“-- Doyoung, please!” he cut in, to no avail.

“And Taeyong picked up the heavy bag, made it about two steps, dropped it, and soil spilled out all over the floor of the shop.”

Yuta shook his head. “You need to start coming to the gym with me.”

“So you can lust over me there too?” Taeyong protested, his voice indignant and high-pitched. “No thanks, you probably are the type to fuck in the locker room.”

“Ooo, can I come?” Doyoung asked. Yuta’s eyes lit up, nodding excitedly.

“Who’s side are you on?”

“Well, I think I’ll be on your left side while Yuta tops you.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Ten interjected, thankfully trying to steer this conversation back on course. “So you didn’t get the job?”

“No.”

“But he has another interview in two days!” Doyoung offered, leaning back to kiss Taeyong on the cheek.

Yuta shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’re leaving me with the small, angry one.”

“ _Bitch_ , I can’t believe he’s leaving me alone with your tequila-fueled sex drive!”  


* * *

  
“Babe.”

“Yes?”

“You can’t go to your interview with three buttons undone.”

Taeyong frowned. The two of them were getting ready in the bathroom at the ungodly hour of 10 am; he was very much dressed-up -- well, more than usual -- and Doyoung was very much not dressed at all. Doyoung was lazily uncapping his toothpaste, loose-fitting sweats sitting on his hips, just below his boxer briefs’ waistband. Taeyong, meanwhile, was fixing ( _trying to fix_ ) his gelled-up hair, pleading it to go in the direction he wanted it to go so that he looked as professional as his white dress shirt and gray slacks. 

“There’s no way three buttons is too much,” he protested, delicately directing his hair to the side.

Doyoung sighed. "Instead of doing another interview, why don't we just fuck again," the black-haired boy complained, frowning again through their bathroom mirror. Doyoung's face said cute, but his shirtless chest said otherwise. His boyfriend was really trying to persuade him, running a lazy hand up his abs while Taeyong eyed him lustfully. 

“You _know_ this is important to me, Doyoungie,” he quietly replied, trying to ignore how Doyoung’s hand lingered, and then stopped, around his nipple. 

His boyfriend’s hand dropped from his chest, finding his toothbrush while pouting a bit. “ _Fine_ ,” he reluctantly agreed.

“You can fuck me as much as you want when I get back,” Taeyong added, focusing back on his hair.

“ _But I want you now_.”

“You always want me,” he nonchalantly answered.

“Yes,” Doyoung confirmed, squirting a small amount of toothpaste onto his brush. “Since my awful boyfriend won’t service me, maybe he should tell me what he’s going to say at his interview.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes, fastening the third button on his shirt while Doyoung stuck his toothbrush in his mouth. “I’m going to introduce myself and talk about how I was the top of my class in high school. I’m a hard worker, and I was captain of the hip-hop dance club for two years. Sometimes I can get a little flustered, but I’m pretty confident that I can handle whatever you throw at me with some training.”

Doyoung popped his toothbrush out of his mouth. “Your resume says you’re 22. What’d you do between now and high school?”

Taeyong hesitated. “Ummm, I was working here and there?”

“Doing what?” Doyoung pressed, mouth foaming with toothpaste.

Something told Taeyong he shouldn’t say ‘everybody.’

“Um, I -- I was… uh.”

The black-haired boy shook his head. “You’re gonna need to be prepared for that question, babe. If you don’t wanna mention that you were a go-go boy because this is some office-y secretary job, you’re gonna need to talk about that four-year gap. And saying that your wonderful bartender boyfriend supported you doesn’t exactly tell your interviewers that you’re a hard worker, y’know?” Doyoung finished lecturing him, stilling his toothbrush instead of wagging it around like an extension of his index finger.

“Hey! I make more than you do most nights,” Taeyong whined, moving his hands from his hair to his hips.

“Not every night!” Doyoung replied, starting the water so that he could wash his toothbrush. “Sometimes I make more in tips than you do.”

“That’s just because all the boys like it when you roll up your sleeves and flex a lot while making their drinks.”

“Mmhmm,” his boyfriend hummed.

“I like it.”

Doyoung coughed, turning toward Taeyong and pointing at his abs with one hand.

“I also like your abs,” Taeyong dramatically added before leaning in and placing a kiss on Doyoung’s lips and then leaning down and placing a kiss on his toned chest. He looked back up at his boyfriend’s face, staring up past his sharp jawline to his large eyes and cocked eyebrow.

“What was that?”

“Good-luck kiss~” Taeyong sing-songed, pulling his head back up from Doyoung’s waist and running a hand along his chest in the process. He tried to ignore how Doyoung mewled because of his touch, instead turning back toward the mirror and contorting his face at his own reflection.

“Can you fix my hair? I can never get it right.”

“Only if you touch me again,” Doyoung huskily replied, need dripping from his voice. Doyoung was always like this after skipping the after-Climax sex.

Taeyong smirked. “How about this? I’ll play with your chest while you play with my hair?”

Doyoung immediately nodded, bringing his hands up to Taeyong’s hair while Taeyong’s hands dropped to Doyoung’s waist, tracing his briefs’ waistband. He moved his hands up Doyoung’s chest while his boyfriend made a few swoopy motions with his hands, trying to get the perfect amount of windblown-looking hair across his parted center. Taeyong traced circles around Doyoung’s nipples, which caused the other boy to close his eyes and moan, pausing his hair-fixing operation. He quickly returned to it when Taeyong removed his hands, fixing a few individual tufts of hair while Taeyong’s hands balled around his shoulders, massaging them gently.

“D-done,” he choked out, immediately moving his hands to Taeyong’s. He liked feeling his boyfriend’s hands touching him like that. Taeyong finished massaging his shoulders before snaking his hands out of Doyoung’s grip; he leaned forward and planted another kiss on Doyoung’s lips.

“If I get the job, we can do that every day~” Taeyong teased, inspecting his hair in the mirror.

“I _really_ hope you get the job then,” Doyoung mewled.  


* * *

  
He didn’t get the secretary job.

Or the barista job that he interviewed for two days later.

Needless to say, he was a little upset about the whole thing. Three totally different jobs and three totally different fails. It seemed like everything he tried was just the wrong fit, and it was really starting to get to him. Maybe he really was only cut out to be a go-go boy?

But, even then, he knew his heart wasn’t quite in it. His tips weren’t as good tonight, and Doyoung kept asking him if he was okay, sending lots of water his way. Taeyong knew that he couldn’t keep doing this, that he couldn’t keep being a go-go boy. But it also seemed like he couldn’t really be anything else -- what was wrong with him? Why was job hunting so difficult? 

Worse yet, he felt like he was letting Doyoung down. After he made it obvious that he didn’t want to work at Climax anymore, he felt like there was pressure on him to find something else, to find a job that paid equally as well. It was impossible. Nothing could compete with the tips he (usually) pulled in from hip-thrusting his way into every boy’s heart. Lee Taeyong was completely and utterly unqualified for anything that paid as well as selling himself. And, no, it didn’t make him feel any better that he was desirable enough to earn that kind of money with his body and his body alone… mostly because he couldn’t _do_ anything else.

All he could seem to do was take his shirt off, throw some glitter up his bare skin, and wait for the end of his shift. Wait for the moment when he could wander over to Doyoung’s bar and ask for his second fruity, inconsequential drink of the night to waste away his feelings of inadequacy.

Doyoung, Ten, and Yuta seemed determined not to let that happen. Y’know, despite Taeyong being super obvious about the fact that he wanted to bury his head into Doyoung’s bar so that he didn’t have to see anyone or anything for the rest of the night. Their shift was over; he wanted to go home.

“Taeyongie?” 

He tried to ignore Ten’s sweet-sounding lisp, keeping his head firmly stuck to the bar counter. Not even Ten and his genuine concern could make him leave.

“Taeyongie _please_ ,” the shorter boy pleaded, grabbing onto his hand. Taeyong felt another, larger hand grab onto his shoulder. After battling his instinct to instantly go pliant as soon as Ten touched him for approximately two seconds, Taeyong gave in and lifted his head up, letting Yuta slide him off of his bar stool into Ten’s arms. The two other go-go boys gently guided him toward one of the nearby couches, ignoring his half-hearted pleas to let him go, to leave him alone.

“You need to tell us what’s wrong,” Ten finally instructed, plopping down next to Taeyong and scooting his butt closer to Taeyong. Yuta sat next to him opposite of Ten, and he could see Doyoung carrying a tray of drinks over toward them, forearms very much Exposed.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he lied, looking down toward his lap. That didn’t last long, though, because Ten quickly hooked his legs over the couch’s armrest so he could plop his head down on Taeyong’s lap, staring directly up at what he could only imagine were his own very mopey eyes. 

“Nothing’s wrong, hmm?” Ten quietly hummed, reaching up toward Taeyong’s cheek with one hand and wiping away some of the glitter. 

Taeyong looked away again, this time over toward Ten’s chest. Anything to avoid eye contact. “Nothing,” he repeated.

Ten slowly pulled up his shirt, the bunched-up cloth revealing his lower chest. When Taeyong didn’t react, Ten reached up and slowly directed the taller boy’s gaze back toward his. “Is that why you can’t look me in the eyes and say that to my face?”

By now, Doyoung had placed their drinks on the table, and Taeyong knew he wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that he was upset for much longer. Doyoung would spill the beans soon. Taeyong’s eyes were still locked with Ten’s when he decided to open his mouth.

“I effed up another interview,” he recounted. “Two, actually.”

Ten frowned. “I’m sorry,” he softly said, his sweet-sounding voice barely above a whisper. 

“I would hire you,” Yuta added, earning Taeyong’s attention and causing Ten to clamber out of Taeyong’s lap. “No hesitation,” the Japanese boy continued, licking his lips while eyeing his body.

“ _Not that kind of hiring_ ,” Ten scolded, re-adjusting himself so that he was leaning into Taeyong, his head nestled in the crook of Taeyong’s neck and his hands resting on his chest and thigh. “We need to make Taeyongie feel better, not horny.”

“I always feel better when I’m horny,” Yuta pouted. Taeyong watched Yuta as Ten lazily massaged small circles into his thigh; Yuta noticed the tray of drinks and immediately grabbed one of the alcoholic ones that was surely meant for Yuta and his tequila-fueled sex drive, instead shoving it in Taeyong’s direction. “Turn that frown upside-down,” he excitedly suggested, waving the shot glass in front of him.

“Um,” Doyoung interjected. Taeyong’s boyfriend was sitting on one of the other couches, watching all of this unfold -- he finally spoke up when Yuta basically suggested incapacitating his significant other.

“Oh,” Yuta dejectedly replied. “Right, you’re not a drinker.”

Without missing a beat, Yuta brought the glass up to his lips and took what was probably his seventh shot of the night. Taeyong shuddered more at the thought of that than Yuta did at the shot itself. Ten brought Taeyong’s attention back to non-alcoholic thoughts, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and nuzzling his head into his neck again, Ten’s skin brushing against his own. Ten then adjusted his position, shifting one of his legs across Taeyong’s lap and planting his ass on Taeyong’s thighs, his chest pressed against Taeyong’s. Ten went back to placing little kisses along Taeyong’s neck and whispering sweet things between each one, his hands gently holding Taeyong’s head.

“You are _so_ talented Taeyong,” Ten started, kissing along his jawline. “You’re smart and hard-working and always try your best.”

Another kiss on his cheek. “You’re honestly the cutest and Doyoung is so lucky to have such a thoughtful and caring boyfriend like you.”

A kiss on his neck, with the added bonus of Ten’s thighs squeezing his thighs as Ten moved lower. “There’s literally nothing not to like about you, Taeyongie.”

Ten leaned back and smiled sweetly at him, Ten ran his hands down Taeyong’s body, feeling up his chest with one and tracing a line down his arm with the other. Eventually Ten found one of Taeyong’s hands, brought it up his lips, and placed a soft kiss on the back of his hand.

Taeyong was soaking up every second of attention, loving how Ten made him feel like he wasn’t a total fuck-up. He _was_ trying his best.

“That was beautiful,” Yuta commented, wiping a fake tear from one of his eyes. Ten shifted himself off of Taeyong’s lap, and Taeyong nearly whined -- moaned -- at the loss of contact. He didn’t have to wait long, though, because Yuta was quickly pulling him up and dragging him to his pedestal. Doyoung wasn’t far behind, nursing a craft beer in one hand. Ten lagged with his fruity cocktail while Yuta hoisted Taeyong up onto the pedestal, clambering up behind him.

“You may not want this job anymore,” Yuta started, pulling Taeyong up close and grabbing onto his hair with one hand and fondling his ass with the other. “But you’re fucking good at it, baby.”

Yuta started to dance before Taeyong even registered what was happening -- except it was less dancing, and more _grinding_. When Taeyong finally caught up, he made a show of rolling his eyes and continuing to frown, but Yuta wasn’t having any of it. There was barely enough room for the two of them on top of Yuta’s pedestal, but there was also no stopping Yuta when he was determined. Briefly, Taeyong wondered how comical it looked, Yuta dropping it low, pressed against him, while Taeyong made his best effort to continue frowning as hard as he could. He was determined to prove a point: that it took more than just a few body rolls to cheer up Lee Taeyong when he wanted to pout.

When Yuta finally noticed Taeyong’s reticence, he slid back up Taeyong’s body, slinging an arm around Taeyong’s neck and turning to face him. “Come _on_ , handsome,” Yuta murmured into his ear, licking at the shell shamelessly. “Everyone’s watching.”

Taeyong glanced up, blushing. Yuta was right -- Ten was gazing up at them with a look on his face that was something between pride and lust. Doyoung was next to him, beer in hand, eyes hot as he took in what was currently just the Yuta Plus Taeyong’s Stubborn Refusal Show.

Taeyong was tired of being a go-go boy. He really was. But he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of an audience, of having people to entertain and charm and turn on. _Especially Doyoung_... Doyoung almost never got to see him properly work his platform, working at the bar and all. He let out a breathy chuckle, meeting Yuta’s curious, concerned eyes. Even through his obvious worry about his friend, Yuta was still performing, still smiling and licking his lips and silently daring Taeyong to join the fun, and Taeyong never, _ever_ backed down from a dare.

He rolled his eyes again, but there was less _oomph_ behind it, and Yuta knew right away, Taeyong could tell. Yuta always knew when he’d won.

Below them, Ten let out an appreciative _whoop_ as Taeyong began to move with Yuta, instead of being a statue for him to twerk on, letting his eyes fall just shy of shut and leaning back into the ridiculous arms of the other dancer. He let Johnny’s slow, sensual, end-of-the-night playlist guide his hips, making them swivel on their own.

Taeyong’s eyes were still closed when he felt Yuta’s fingers tiptoeing down his bare chest, swirling through the glitter splashed across his stomach, slipping just under his hotpants and pulling him even closer, as if that were really possible. It shouldn’t have been. But, as always, Yuta made it work, made things happen exactly the way he wanted them to. 

When Taeyong finally opened his eyes, just a little, Yuta’s face was closer to his than he’d expected, so close their noses were almost touching, and Yuta grinned, giving Taeyong a sweet little kiss, their mouths just brushing together, and just like that, Taeyong gave up. There wasn’t really a point to pretending he didn’t love parts of this, the parts where he felt loved and adored and lusted after, and Yuta knew exactly how to press all those buttons for him. Taeyong laughed quietly, lacing his own fingers through Yuta’s hair and pulling him back for more kisses as they swayed together. Ten was still yelling encouragements from the floor, and Taeyong wasn’t looking, but he was positive Doyoung was still watching, too, memorizing everything that was happening so he could call upon it later when he and Taeyong were alone.

Not that he needed the extra push, when it came to his boyfriend. Doyoung just liked to watch.

Sometimes, Taeyong wondered if everyone in this bar had a massive voyeurism kink. Perhaps even more massive than his praise kink.

After a while of he and Yuta all over each other, Taeyong blinked his eyes open again, scanning the empty club around them. Doyoung wasn’t in front of their pedestal, after all, but it was only another ten seconds before he reappeared, carrying a single shot glass full of clear liquid. He approached the pedestal, and as he got closer, Taeyong could see the faint blush tinting his cheeks. It made a rush of desire run through him like a lightning bolt. He added it to the rest of the lightning that he and Doyoung gave each other, letting it all build up to a thunderstorm that would explode later on that night, back in their bedroom at home.

Taeyong watched quietly while Yuta bent down and took the shot glass from Doyoung, straightening back up a moment later. He barely even wobbled on the pedestal, despite having had more alcohol that evening than Taeyong could have handled in his whole life. And now there was another shot in play, and honestly? Doyoung knew better.

Taeyong frowned in his boyfriend’s direction. Doyoung just smiled back at him serenely.

Yuta sniffed the glass covertly, smirking a little as he raised his eyes to Taeyong. “It’s Sprite,” he whispered to Taeyong, glancing at the intimate crowd gathered at their pedestal. Yuta bit his lip as his eyes roamed Taeyong’s shirtless body, searching for something.

Taeyong was sort of overwhelmed, then, overwhelmed with love and appreciation for his boyfriend who always took care of him, and his friends who were doing their best to cheer him up, because they genuinely cared. He looked down at himself, at the gold glitter smeared across his chest, and chuckled. “Do it,” Taeyong said softly.

Yuta didn’t need a written invitation.

Raising the shot glass above them, Yuta poured it down Taeyong’s chest slowly. Taeyong stared down at it, watching the liquid carve a smooth path through the glitter. He absolutely knew what was going to happen next, but somehow, he was still only about half ready for Yuta to sink to his knees on the pedestal and drag his tongue down Taeyong’s stomach on his way. _Thank god for edible glitter. A true blessing._

Taeyong’s head tilted back on its own as he felt Yuta lick up every drop splashed on Taeyong’s warm skin, Yuta’s hands moving up on their own to hold him still by his hips. Taeyong was barely aware of the way his arms went up above his head, hands wrapping around the pole he leaned against as he enjoyed every sensation, everything Yuta was doing.

Yuta stayed on his knees for what seemed like forever, flicking his tongue across Taeyong’s bellybutton and around, everywhere he could reach, and then he stood slowly, letting that tongue go up and up and up until it danced over Taeyong’s chin and then their lips were on each other’s again. Taeyong could taste the sweet soda Yuta had poured on him, and it made him giggle, suddenly, giggle and blush and nearly lose his footing as they kissed. Suddenly, Taeyong felt dizzy, even though it had only been Sprite that he tasted on Yuta’s tongue. Probably, there was also a shitload of leftover tequila there, too. That was the only explanation for how he nearly fell off the pedestal, except that Yuta reached out and caught him before he could hurt himself, guiding him to the ground gently. 

Taeyong stumbled out of Yuta’s grip right into Doyoung’s arms, nearly causing his boyfriend to drop his beer -- honestly, he was surprised he hadn’t dropped his beer and started jacking himself off while Yuta played with him for the past few minutes. Doyoung was surprisingly good at keeping it together… well, until they got home, when Doyoung would turn around and slam him against the front door milliseconds after Taeyong locked it.

HIs boyfriend lovingly ruffled his hair a bit before bringing his lips in close and pressing them against Taeyong’s. Doyoung led the way, his plush lips massaging Taeyong’s narrower ones and setting the pace. Taeyong loved chasing Doyoung, feeling Doyoung’s lips against his own -- he could never get enough of him, and this time was no different. Ten politely coughed, bringing them back to Earth before they started fucking in the middle of Climax.

“I love it when you taste like other boys,” Doyoung panted. “It’s like a 2-for-1.”

Taeyong giggled. “I’m sure if you asked nicely, those two would come along.”

“Actually,” Ten interrupted, “I’m not sure that Johnny would like me missing out on, um, _our_ night.” 

Yuta immediately took that as a challenge, wandering over to Ten, kissing him on the lips, leaning him over, and using his free hand to grope Ten’s dick through his hot pants.

“ _Bitch_ , what the fuck!” Ten protested as soon as he could fend Yuta off.

“Don’t lie, you liked it.”

“Fuck off!” Ten countered. “ _Anyways_ , maybe you should talk to Johnny about the whole job thing? He’s, like, had a lot of jobs.”

Taeyong glanced over at the DJ’s booth, where Johnny usually spent his entire night with his laptop and sound equipment. He was still there, scrolling through his laptop, probably waiting for Ten to wrap up whatever he was doing. The taller boy -- Ten’s actual boyfriend -- was chill and kept to himself most of the time. Taeyong had notched up, like, one total conversation with Johnny in the six months that he’d been working here. They weren’t exactly the most social people: Johnny kept to DJing and Taeyong kept to eye-fucking every boy around his pedestal.

Johnny was a damn good DJ, and the oldest of their group. Ten was probably right… he might have some good advice.

Taeyong looked over at Doyoung, who nodded in approval. He quickly kissed his boyfriend on the lips, and sauntered on over to Johnny’s setup. The taller boy was in his own little world, bobbing his head to whatever song was playing in his head. At least, he was pretty sure it was just playing in his head, considering his headphones were wrapped around his neck and not his ears. Taeyong cleared his throat to catch Johnny’s attention, but the DJ didn’t look up. Awkwardness +11.

He leaned forward, trying to lower his head to Johnny’s field-of-view. Luckily, that caught his attention, a dopey smile spreading across his face while Taeyong stood back up straight. Johnny maneuvered around his podium, smile not leaving his face until he almost tripped on one of the cords hooked up to his laptop.

“Sup, dude!” Johnny recovered, holding out his hand for an enthusiastic bro-ey handshake. For someone who spent all night flirting, Taeyong felt a whole lot less socially adept than Johnny, letting Johnny guide him through whatever “cool” handshake they were doing.

“Not much, how ‘bout you?”

“Oh, the usge, man. You guys all done out there?”

Taeyong kinda looked past Johnny now, thinking about how to word this. “We are, actually. I, uh, just had a random question?”

“Oh, I see,” Johnny replied, nodding away like Taeyong was speaking with a beat. “Fire away, bro.”

“It’s, uh, actually a life question?” Johnny kept nodding so Taeyong kept talking. “Ten told me that you’ve had a bunch of odd jobs before coming here. And like, uh, I love it here, right? But I’m looking for a new job, and I keep effing it up. I haven’t been able to nail down a new job yet, you know?”

Johnny stopped nodding. “Yeah man, I dig. You’re looking for a new gig that isn’t as big of a rig, bro.”

Taeyong stood there, confused at the words that just left Johnny’s mouth. Were they actually words? He was pretty sure Johnny just parroted a song lyric. “Yeah, uh, I think so?”

“You think so, bro?” Johnny replied, furrowing his brow. “You gotta know so, dude. Otherwise you should just be lookin’ for jobs while stoned a mile high.”

Something told him that Johnny was speaking from experience there. About both of those things.

“You dig?” Johnny added, nodding again.

“Yeah, uh, I dig. I think.”

Johnny placed a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes. “You gotta stop thinking so much, bro. You just gotta know.”  


* * *

  
Taeyong had been nervously sitting at his laptop for what felt like hours now but what was probably more like fifteen minutes.

His leg was bouncing and he kept chewing on his lip as Doyoung floated in and out of the kitchen, cleaning up the apartment. Taeyong was a frenetic ball of energy today, so Doyoung tried to be a calming presence… y’know, instead of his usual flirty presence. 

To be honest, he had probably refreshed his email like 100 times in the past ten minutes. Not that it mattered much -- whenever he got that email, his inbox would just refresh and he’d know. Taeyong would know whether this was gonna work out or not.

He had taken Johnny’s advice to heart. At least, he thought he did; Johnny was hard to figure out sometimes. Taeyong had tried asking Ten, but Ten told him that Johnny means exactly what he says. So he focused on “knowing” what he wanted as opposed to “thinking” about what he wanted. He was walking to the subway one day, and it struck him. He didn’t want to be a barista or a secretary or a florist. Those types of jobs were probably cool, sure, but they weren’t _him_. They weren’t _Taeyong_. He knew that much, even if he thought otherwise.

Just then, the email popped up on his laptop screen. He nearly shit himself trying to click on the message; Doyoung sensed the urgency and moved from the kitchen to the bar stool where Taeyong was sitting.

“I’m in,” Taeyong mouthed.

“You’re in?” Doyoung repeated, hesitating a little. He hadn’t read as far as Taeyong.

“I’m going to cosmetology school!” Taeyong shouted, turning around and hugging his boyfriend. He started jumping up and down while his arms were wrapped around Doyoung, so Doyoung was kinda forced to jump with him. Not that Doyoung _wasn’t_ excited -- he probably just had other celebratory acts in mind.  


* * *

  
“Sicheng? Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”

It was Taeyong’s first night as a patron at Climax, not as a go-go boy. He was starting cosmetology school next week, but he figured he could spend a few days here, enjoying the thumping music before ‘enjoying’ the head-thumping fumes of noxious-smelling hair products. He had been pleading with Doyoung to let him have more than one drink for a few days now, and it seemed like his boyfriend was starting to let up. At least, Doyoung wasn’t shutting him up with a kiss every time he brought it up. He was absolutely sure Doyoung would slip up at least once over the next few days, the few days he had free before going back to school.

The few days he had before his grand finale performance at Climax, too.

“Sicheng may not roll off the tongue, but his abs sure do,” Yuta quipped, dramatically falling into the bar stool next to Taeyong’s. He could barely hear him despite Yuta’s broad shoulders being sandwiched against his body -- DJ Johnny was legitimately trying to make them all lose their hearing, turning the house music up extra loud tonight.

“He’s been here for one night and you’re already tasting his chest?”

“He definitely tried to,” Ten answered, hooking his head onto Taeyong’s shoulder from behind. “I don’t know if he’ll get to, though, Sicheng’s too classy for our favorite fuckboy.”

“And my dick is too big for you,” Yuta snapped, earning amused laughter from Doyoung and Taeyong.

“ _Bitch_ , there isn’t a dick alive that’s too big for me,” Ten countered, grabbing an uncapped hard cider from Doyoung’s hand. 

“Okay, okay,” Taeyong interrupted, “So about this Sicheng guy. How can he be a _classy_ go-go boy? I have to know.”

Ten took a large swig of his cider, leaning over Taeyong’s body like personal space wasn’t a thing. “Dude, I don’t know.”

“I think it’s his face,” Yuta mused.

“His face?”

“Yeah, I agree,” Ten nodded. “Sicheng’s always channeling lust and pent-up desire. LIke it’s been building up for days, weeks even. Yuta just looks like he’s gonna cream himself every minute he’s up there.”

Before Yuta could respond to Ten’s latest slanderous (and completely true) insult, Doyoung piped up. “Speaking of creaming himself, it looks like Sicheng’s already picked up a regular,” Doyoung casually mentioned, gesturing toward a shorter boy near Sicheng’s platform.

“What makes you think he’s a regular?” Taeyong asked.

“He’s been there for two hours and has only left to pound more shots at the bar,” Doyoung reported. “Been running up a big tab. Then he saunters right back over to Sicheng’s pedestal to torture himself some more. Name’s Taeil, I think.”

“Almost sounds like Jungwoo’s type,” Ten giggled. “Except Jungwoo likes a man with slightly more game. And he’s a size queen, too.”

Taeyong started choking on his water, nearly dry-heaving until Ten lightly tapped his back. He could see it, though… Jungwoo being a camboy and all. The bigger the better, right? Besides, after Ten brought “Jungwoo from Hot Yoga” to Climax one night, Jungwoo almost exclusively pined over the go-go boys and their tight-ass hot pants. 

“Jungwoo just likes all boys,” Taeyong choked out. “He wants to fuck all the boys.”

Ten giggled again, hiccuping a little as the carbonation from all his drinks started hitting him. Yuta nearly lost his shit when Ten giggled, cooing over how ridiculously _adorable_ his friend was. After Ten shot him a death-glare, Yuta innocently smiled and glanced back over at his pedestal. “And now it’s _my_ turn to go fuck all the boys,” he sing-songed. “Break’s over.”

“Aw, shit.” Ten took another swig of his cider, handing it back over to Doyoung for safekeeping. Doyoung promptly threw it under his side of the bar (into the trash), smiling reassuringly at Ten.

Taeyong felt Yuta grab onto his shoulder, bringing his attention to the half-naked boy standing behind him now. “And I better see _you_ over at my pedestal,” he moaned, directing all his flirtatious energy at Taeyong. There was that flirt switch again, wrecking Taeyong’s libido -- and his dick. Yuta licked his lips and eyed Taeyong lustfully. “I get harder when there’s more people watching. Especially hot boys like you, baby.”

“Jesus christ, Yuta,” Ten scolded. “Let him enjoy his first night off in ages.” The shorter boy dragged Yuta back toward their pedestals by grabbing onto his arm, leaving Taeyong and Doyoung alone at the bar. Taeyong was sure he heard something about how there was no better way to enjoy his night off than spending it with Yuta, which sounded exactly like something Yuta would actually say.

“It’s almost my break, y’know...” Doyoung murmured, leaning in toward Taeyong’s ear. “And I’m feeling pretty needy.”

Taeyong smirked. “You’re always needy,” he answered, throwing his voice lower and lightly squeezing Doyoung’s arm. 

“I’m extra needy right now,” Doyoung repeated, hot breath ghosting over Taeyong’s cheek. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, realizing that there was nothing stopping him from pinning Doyoung against the bathroom wall in Climax anymore. Doyoung was _his_ and his alone, and he didn’t have a go-go boy facade to keep up for the audience. Nobody cared if he fucked his boyfriend in the bathroom or flirted with him at the bar. He didn’t realize how deep-seeded his desire to play with Doyoung at Climax was until he could actually do it again.

“How about this?” Taeyong started. “You give me another drink, and I’ll give you another _job_.”

“Oh, so now I’m the one looking for jobs?” Doyoung quipped. “ _Deal_.”

Doyoung spun around and started grabbing drinks and mixers and a plastic umbrella for good measure, mixing and pouring ad nauseum into a margarita glass until the drink was bright pink with a yellow umbrella draped on one side. Doyoung ferried the glass back over to Taeyong, smirking as he slid the drink across the bar to his eagerly-waiting boyfriend.

“You’ve got five minutes until my break starts,” Doyoung instructed, earning a nod from Taeyong.

Doyoung wandered away, floating down the bar to work on more drinks and plug in more orders to his electronic terminal. He uncapped beers, carefully mixed cocktails, and flirted just enough with everybody to keep the tips rolling in. Meanwhile, Taeyong leaned over his drink and sipped away, surprised at how he couldn’t even taste the alcohol in it while he lusted over Doyoung’s arms from the end of the bar. He was so fucking ready for Doyoung’s break, feeling the desire knot in his stomach when Doyoung stretched his arms behind his back and winked at him. His boyfriend was so fucking hot, and he needed him now. Five minutes couldn’t pass fast enough.

By the time Doyoung glided back over to the end of the bar, Taeyong had finished his drink and was a little more than half-hard, grabbing Doyoung and marching toward the bathroom. “I hope you’re ready to work for that drink,” Doyoung taunted, pushing the bathroom door open.

“I always work for it. Work for you, babe.”

Little did he know that there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in that virgin margarita.  


* * *

  



End file.
